


The Prince Who Dreamed of Swans

by Nigmuff



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Alternate Universe - Swan Lake Fusion, Angst, Child Abuse, Heavy Angst, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Love at First Sight, M/M, Modern Royalty, Soldiers and Kings, Suicide Attempt, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-01
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2020-03-30 02:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19033162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nigmuff/pseuds/Nigmuff
Summary: When Tony's girlfriend betrays him and steals the royal seal, Tony feels as there's nothing worth living for anymore. He goes to drown himself in the lake, but is stopped by one of the swans, who transforms into a man. Is Tony losing his mind? Or is this man truly Steve Rogers, the legendary hero?





	The Prince Who Dreamed of Swans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [haemodye](https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemodye/gifts).



> First, I'd like to mention that the verse of the fic is ambiguous; although it contains many elements from the MCU, Tony's characterization is mainly based on the comics.
> 
> Second, wow, this fic was a rollercoaster! I took the plunge during claims to snag Haemodye’s GORGEOUS PIECE OF WORK seriously I’m still not over how beautiful it is, and it has been a joy working on the fic ever since. Lots of people went into the creation of this fic. I loved collaborating with Heamodye, who was a great partner and also beta’d for the fic. Whenasinsilks also provided priceless beta help. Hopelesse and Wynnesome helped when I was struggling with the plot, and the 18+ 616 Stevetony server was just an invaluable source of encouragement and advice. I couldn’t have done it without these guys!
> 
> Third, this is not a retelling of the original Swan Lake, but of Mathew Bourne's Swan Lake. (Yes, my fic is a retelling of a retelling of a classic retelling. Stories be like that!) Bourne's Swan Lake is significantly different from the original, particularly because he switched out the female swans for male swans. I would definitely recommend watching it, because it's great, but my fic is completely stand-alone, so you don't have to.
> 
> Finally, I have some warnings for this fic (it turned out pretty heavy) but they're kinda spoilery. If you want more details, please read the end notes! Keep yourself safe, and I hope you enjoy!
> 
> [Link to the art post](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19047418).

_He is trapped._

_He doesn’t know anything, he doesn’t know where he is or how he got here, but he knows he’s trapped. Something has trapped him here, and it’s suffocating him. He thrashes and twists, but no matter what he does, the binds just twist harder. They pull on his limbs. He can feel the muscle, sinew, and skin pull and stretch. They’re about to give, make it stop make it stop—_

_He’s trying to run away, but it’s not working. He’s tried again and again, but he’ll do it this time, he’s sure of it, he’ll just work harder (be better) and then he’ll be free of his binds, and then he’ll be out of here—_

_Dark, thick shadows grab him. He’s almost there, he’s almost free, no no nononnonononononono_

_They pull him back, he’s going back, no please, just let him die, it’s too much, he just wanted his friend back, was that so much? Stop, please, no—_

“Tony, wake up!”

He wakes up with a gasp. He sits up ramrod straight, and can’t remember who he is. He heard a name, but whose is it? Where are the shadows, and their master? Did he escape? Is that… is that Dad? Is Dad the one who was pulling him apart?

Tony looks around him and sees his room in the royal quarters. His heart is racing and his breath is coming painfully fast, but the dream is falling away like water through a sieve. _It was a dream,_ he thinks, shaking his head. _It was just a dream._

 _You are Anthony Stark, prince of New York and heir to the throne,_ he recites to himself silently. _You are nine years old, and will be ten in three months. Your father is the king. Your mother is dead._

His heart rate went down.

“What the heck is the matter with you?” a harsh, familiar voice says, and Tony flinches with his whole body. Thoughts of dark shadows and being pulled apart enter his mind, but that was just a dream. Starks aren’t afraid of dreams. Starks are made of iron.

“I… uh…” Tony has nothing to say. His thoughts are being crowded by fear left over from the dream.

“Come on, you’re a man now. What’s all this racket? This is the fourth night in a row you’ve woken up screaming. What’s your problem?”

Tony swallows, but has no idea how to respond. He doesn’t know what’s going on either. He’s never been bothered by nightmares before, but ever since that horrible night four nights ago, he hasn’t been sleeping well. He’s been plagued by the same monster, the same problem, but he keeps forgetting it when he wakes up.

It was the night of the full moon when he was first woken up by this. He can’t remember the contents of the dream well enough to make any kind of guess as to what’s going on.

He can’t think of any answer that will please his father, but that doesn’t stop him from trying.

“I’m sorry, Father. It, uh, must have been something I ate. Nothing more.” There’s silence. Tony doesn’t chance a glance up. “I’m… I’ll be fine.”

“… See that you do,” his father says. “I, uh…” His father trailed off. He cleared his throat. “Go to sleep,” he said, not unkindly.

Tony nodded and lay back on the bed, closing his eyes. He heard the door close behind his father, waited a few minutes, and then got up. He wasn’t going to risk dreaming again. Anyway, he had more important things to do, like design a mechanism that would unlock any lock.

Tony never wanted to feel trapped like that again.

 

***

 

“Daddy’s home!” Tony called, throwing open the doors to his workshop. From the charging pod, Dum-E perked up and excitedly whirred his claw around. Dum-E nearly came barreling into him, and Tony held his hands up.

“Whoa, whoa, slow down there! What are you acting like I abandoned you for? I was just here yesterday.” Tony grinned and reached out to pet the bot’s support strut. Exhaustion weighed down heavily on him, and he ended up leaning heavily on Dum-E’s sturdy form. Dum-E beeped in question. “It’s fine,” he said around a yawn. God, he should clean up his workshop. He had left his books on magic out on the table where anyone could see them. They weren’t illegal or anything, but they were generally frowned upon, and his father would _definitely_ have a few choice words to say to his son if he found out that Tony was collecting them on the sly. “Just a bit tired. I stayed up all night last night finishing up a project for college, and it’s just been one gala after another this week.” It had been especially boring at the galas, because Sunset wasn’t there to keep him company. Maybe she was just busy recently, but he hadn’t seen her ever since he had shown her the royal seal. She hadn’t been returning his calls or texts. She was probably just busy, though. Dum-E beeped again. “Yeah, it’s a lot, but I can handle it. Dad is counting on me to attend when he can’t, you know? Now come on, I think you’re due for a diagnostic, don’t you think?”

Dum-E backed away abruptly.

Tony laughed. “Come on, you, I’m just going to run a few — hey, get back here!” Tony made a grab for Dum-E as he zoomed past, but was no match for Dum-E’s wheels, and the bot swerved past him to the other end of the room. “Dum-E!” Tony followed him, and Dum-E zoomed past him again. “Come on, Dum-E, I’m too tired for this.” Tony rubbed the heel of his hands into his aching eyes. “I really need to run a diagnostic on you, and after that I have to go finish the rest of my assignments, and…”

Tony trailed off when he felt a nudge. He looked up through bleary eyes to Dum-E tentatively holding out a book. Not just any book, of course, but the story about the knight, Steve Rogers, who defeated the evil magician, Rothbart. It was a beautifully illustrated edition that the had treasured throughout his childhood. Continued to treasure, despite having grown up.

“You want to read it again? But, it’s just a silly storybook…” Dum-E pushed the book into his hands. Tony grinned despite himself. “Fine, you big bag of bolts.” Tony sat down in a chair, and Dum-E came around so his camera was pressing right up against the book. Tony smiled and gently pushed the camera back so he could actually see the pages.

The story of the knight of America, Steve Rogers, was a story near and dear to his heart. He should grow out of it, he knew, but he could never manage it. This was why Sunset thought he was childish. It was just a comfort, even after all this time, to read the story where the main character won in the end, through perseverance and bravery. He was a sucker for happy endings.

Halfway through the story, the door to the workshop banged open.

“Tony!”

Tony flinched, and shot to his feet. He ran to hide the magic books that he had left haphazardly on his workbench.

“There you are,” the King muttered. He came down the steps into Tony’s workshop. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing down here?”

Tony’s heart was pushing anxiety through every part of his body, but he did his best to breathe through it. He slowly pulled the book under the table and let it drop to the floor, and reached for a box of tools within reach. DUM-E whirred questioningly. “I, uh, thought that DUM-E needed a check up, so I came down to do that…”

“Dummy? What, that dumb machine you programmed? You have got to be kidding me. Tony, get up here so we can fix this. Do you know what’s happened?”

Tony’s heart sank with the possibilities. He swallowed, and ran his hand subconsciously up and down DUM-E’s support strut. “Um. No. What’s happened?”

“You happened, that’s what,” the King snapped. He made his way towards the big work table in the middle. “Can’t think with your brain, can you? Always thinking with your dick. Did she promise you a suck if you gave her what she wanted? I hope she was a good lay, son, because you’ve just royally fucked us over.”

“W-what?”

“Sunset Bain. Ring a bell? She’s the woman around whose finger you’ve recently been wrapped around. Now she’s running around with the ability to speak with full royal authority, because you,” the King speared the air in front of Tony, hard enough for Tony to feel it, “couldn’t keep it in your pants.”

“I didn’t… she said…” that she just wanted to look at the royal seal. That she wasn’t going to do anything with it, she was just curious. That she loved Tony. That she always wanted to be with him.

The King scoffed, and slammed his hand on the desk. Tony jumped. “The seal is gone. Zip. Nada. We checked the security cameras over and over, and the last time anyone had seen it was you and your little squeeze.”

“But… but…”

“She must have swiped it right out from under your nose. What idiot takes someone directly to the royal seal?! I can’t believe my own son would be this stupid. And now we can’t find her, so someone out there right now has the power to speak with royal authority.”

“She couldn’t have,” Tony insisted. “Sunset wouldn’t steal from me. She loves me.”

And that was the moment when the King shot Tony an almost pitying glance, and Tony’s heart sunk. Why would anyone love him, anyway? He couldn’t think of a single reason, in that moment.

Tony shook himself. No, this is Sunset, he told himself. She wouldn’t betray him like that. They loved each other so much and were going to get married. (Tony day dreamed about running away to some place where he wasn’t crown prince, but that was just foolish, of course.) Sunset was such a good, brilliant person, Tony was sure she had a reasonable explanation for this.

“Come on,” the King turned around and headed back for the stairs. “We need to go fix this mess.”

Tony nodded silently, and slid off his bench. Before he could leave, Dummy rolled up to his, holding the book about good people who saved the day. Tony smiled at him and pet him one last time, and then followed his father, the King.

 

***

 

Another day, another charity ball. Tony had no idea what the ball was raising money for. He felt like the days were bleeding into each, and there was no time for rest. What he did know was who he had to talk to today to keep good relations up between them, and then maybe he could make an early exit and finally get some sleep. He was talking to an important ambassador when something caught his eye. He turned slightly to get a better view, all while keeping up the stream of small talk with the man. The hair style was different, but Tony would know her anywhere: it was Sunset Bain. She wasn’t wearing her usual dazzling ball gown. She didn’t seem to be trying to stand out at all, in fact, she seemed to be trying to disguise herself as a waitress. Tony felt his heart hammer away in his chest. Why was she disguised like that? Why hadn’t she been answering his calls? Why didn’t she just come to him earlier so they could figure it all out? He had been starting to doubt her in the face of his father’s accusations, but now that Tony could see her, all he wanted to do was just talk to her. It couldn’t be that their whole relationship was built on a lie. Tony felt reassured that they would be able to figure it out if they just talked. As soon he could politely excuse himself, Tony made his way to her.

“Sunset, finally!” Tony said.

Sunset jumped. “Tony! I didn’t think you were coming today…” She trailed off. She wasn’t really looking at him, but scanning the room.

“What the hell, Sunset? The royal seal has gone missing, and you went completely AWOL. You haven’t been answering my calls, you completely disappeared--”

“Tony, sweetheart, you don’t think I actually stole the seal, do you?” She fixed him with her big, brown eyes, and pouted. “I would never do something so horrible. I thought you trusted me!”

Faced with this heartfelt denial, Tony felt his doubts melt away, and was left feeling a bit guilty. “Oh. I mean… I want to believe you, Sunset, but you’ve been gone so long, you know how that looked…”

Sunset put her arm in Tony’s. “I know, babe, I’m so sorry. It was just so difficult to get in touch with you with all the security measures, you know? Everyone is so quick to believe that the poor girl is the one stealing their precious things.”

Tony grinned despite himself. “You’re far from a poor girl, Sunset.”

Sunset smiled back. “I am compared to the royal family! Now look, I know it looked bad, but I promise I’ll explain everything, just as soon as we get out of here.”

“What? Why not here? I can’t leave yet. Just tell me what’s going on, Sunset!”

“I will! But you have to believe me, love, I can’t tell you here. Please,” she pulled on his arm, “just come with me, we’ll go somewhere private so no one will bother us, and I’ll tell you everything.”

Tony let himself be tugged a few steps, and then hesitated and looked back at the ball room. “Sunset, please, just  tell me…”

Suddenly, Sunset was kissing him, warm and tender. Tony tried to pull away to say something, but she held him in place for a few moments longer. When Sunset pulled back, Tony was breathing heavily. “Tony, I love you so much. Please, trust me.”

Tony looked her in the eyes, and his heart melted. What was he doing, distrusting his own girlfriend like this? Surely, if she said she could explain herself, she would. Tony nodded, and followed her to the door.

“Okay.” Tony noticed that Sunset was leading them along the side of the room where less would see them, keeping in the shadows where possible, but he decided not to comment.

They went out the door, but before they could go much farther, someone shouted, “Hey!”

Tony looked back, and found one of security guards running after them. The man startled when he realized who Tony was.

“Your highness! Excuse me, but I have to detain Ms. Bain here…”

“She’s with me,” Tony said in what he hoped was a firm voice. “And we’re going to--”  Tony turned to look at his girlfriend, only to find that she was gone. Tony froze.

“Hey, get back!” the security man shouted, and started running. Tony looked in the direction he was running, and found Sunset’s glossy hair streaming out behind her as she turned a corner at a run.

“Sunset!” He shouted, and ran after them. Just as he turned the corner, a car went zooming past, and he just caught a glance of Sunset in the passenger seat. She was laughing.

Tony stood for moment staring after the disappearing car, stunned. His heart suddenly started pounding loud enough to fill his ears. His lungs struggled to bring in oxygen. He felt light-headed.

Sunset betrayed him.

Sunset betrayed him.

He shouldn’t have been so surprised.

 

***

 

Tony went through his routine: cufflinks, tie, waistcoat. He was hardly paying attention, just taking clothes off in his usual fashion. He’d done it so many times, he didn’t even have to think about it. He was trying not to think about it, but his mind was going ahead and connecting dots and solving equations: the unanswered calls, the cancelled dates, the way Sunset had been becoming less and less attentive … until that last date.

They had had a lovely dinner in a fancy restaurant, and had talked about electronics and the latest developments in the field. Sunset had been charming, hanging off of his every word, and Tony had felt like he was on top of the world, like he was the luckiest man alive. Then Sunset had come home with him, kissed him breathless, and asked for a tour. Tony had dutifully shown her all the beautiful rooms in the palace, but Sunset had seemed less interested in the decour, and more in how much of Tony’s skin she could touch without taking any of his clothes off. But then they reached Tony’s father’s office, and Sunset seemed to perk up.

“I just wanna look,” she had said.

Tony put his hands down on the dresser. There was something wrong with him, he suspected. Some deep, gaping emptiness where his heart should be. That must be why no one ever stayed, or seemed to want to be with him. Before that had been Tiberius, who had just been using him for the attention from the press, and now…

Tony shuddered and shook his head. He wasn’t thinking about it.

He unbuttoned his shirt with hands that felt like lead, and wondered where on earth his energy had gone. It hadn’t been that taxing of a day, right? He had just been played like the world’s biggest fool.

When Sunset Bain had first appeared in his life, Tony had thought he had finally found someone who was really interested in Tony. Not Prince Stark, heir to the throne, but Tony, who had a soft spot for the old fairy tales, who played around with robotics, who had a picture of his late mom in his pocket watch. Tony shook his head, and tried to focus. Tiberius’s goal all along had been to appear on the front page, and Sunset, it now appeared, was just to get the royal seal. Tony was just a door people went through to go somewhere else.

Tony sighed. He felt the betrayal right in his chest, beating alongside his heart.

The doorknob to Tony’s room turned, and Tony grimaced. He didn’t want to see anyone, but it didn’t matter what he wanted. The door opened, and revealed his father in the doorway.

“Well, son, I think we can agree now that you shouldn’t choose your own partner.”

Tony ducked his head down.

“First you had to make that huge scandal with that fag that we spent months cleaning up, and now this. You lost the royal seal.”

Tony hung his head, and didn’t say anything. The King was right, after all.

“Well, anyway. We’re going to be holding a ball in a week. All of the eligible noblewomen of the country will be attending. Just pick one, for God’s sake. Even you can’t mess that up, right?”

Tony stayed quiet.

“ _Right_?”

“Yes, Father.”

“Good.”

The King left. Tony was left with what felt like a vice crushing his chest, making it impossible to breath. He had known it would hurt, but that didn’t prepare for him feeling like his heart was slowly being ripped into two pieces. He tried to to even out his breathing. He would step out for a minute, he decided. Clear his head a bit, and try and think of some way to fix himself. There had to be something.

 

***

 

Tony left his room and went to the balcony. He was hoping that maybe the fresh air would help him clear his head. He didn’t know what was wrong with him, but there was something, he was sure of it. What else would cause him to mess up so completely that not only would his girlfriend dump him, but he would also lose the royal seal to her in the process? And if so, how could he fix it? He didn’t know. He wasn’t thinking objectively, he knew; his father’s arguments were lodged in his chest, making it difficult to breath and leaching the logic from his thought process. All he wanted to do was lie down and give up, but he had to try, right? Just one more try to fix himself.

He was just thinking about whether he should become more involved in politics when someone came out onto the balcony with him.

“...so I’m going to need you to attend galas in his place, okay?” It was Obie. He walked through the doors and slipped something in his hand into his pocket. He was talking to another man next to him, who was quite good looking, with unusually long hair and lovely eyes. “We’re going to need someone who understands the complex political situation, so you’ll understand if something is amiss. If we can get it back without anyone knowing, that would be the best case scenario...”

It was at that point that Obie and the man looked and spotted Tony.

“Oh, Tony,” Obie said. Obie was the King’s advisor, and had been in the castle since the queen, Maria, had died. “There you are. I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tony asked. He tried not to sound accusatory, but he wasn’t sure how well he succeeded. “I’m the one who attends the balls and galas… I’ve been keeping abreast of the political situation.”

The man sneered. “Yeah, and you’ve done such a stellar job of that recently, haven’t you?”

Tony flinched, but tried to hide it. “And who the hell are you?”

“Tony, this is James Barnes. He’s going to be helping us _try_ to fix the little mess you landed us in.”

“But, I don’t--” Tony trailed off, feeling small and helpless.

“Tony, maybe you’ve missed the memo, but you’ve completely fucked things up,” Obie said with a finality that beat on Tony’s heart painfully. “You’ve lost it recently. We need to hand feed you the recent updates in the political world before every event, because you can’t be bothered to actually read up on the news yourself. No, you’re much too busy stepping out with that woman who only wanted to steal from you. Honestly, your father’s such a good judge of character, I don’t know what happened with you.”

Tony was stunned. Obie had always been kinder than Howard, always the one who stood in between Tony and his father’s worse tempers. He had thought that Obie would be on his side for this, but it seemed that Tony’s fuck ups had reached a level that even Obie couldn’t forgive.

“I--I’m sorry,” he stuttered, “I know I’m not the best judge of character, but I try to … to … I’m doing my best, it’s just, I’ve been so busy with college and everything, and I’ve been so tired, I don’t know…”

Barnes snorted, nastily. “Maybe you haven’t been sleeping because you’ve been boning your girlfriend.”

Tony had no idea how to respond to that. He hung his head.

Obie came over and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder. Tony thought maybe he would say some encouraging words, but instead, Obie said, “The truth is you’re a failure. I had thought that you would grow out of this nonsense, but you seem to have only gotten more naive with age. You trust too blindly, and you simply have no natural ability for leading. You’re a horrible prince, and frankly, I don’t know what to do with you.”

Obie took his hand off, and continued to the rail of the balcony, Barnes right behind. Tony stood there for a moment, hands clenched. He was vibrating, coming apart at the seams. Would he explode and take out everything around him, or would he simply crumble into himself, bones collapsing and arteries spilling everywhere?

With jerky movements, he went out the door. He didn’t know where he was going, but he was going to get there fast. All while he walked along the corridors, the thought of _failure, failure, failure_ beat in time with his heart. His thoughts were spiralling downward -- he was a failure, all he ever did was mess up, he would never do anything right in his entire life, he was fundamentally incapable of being good enough to please his father. He would live one day to be a failure of a king, and then he would drag the entire country down with him to some horrible fate. He pitied the citizens of this country, every last one of them, who would have to put up with him as a ruler.

It was just as he was walking out the doors of the palace that the answer came to him: there was a simple solution to everyone’s problems. Tony would get some rest, and everyone else would be rid of him.

All he had to do was kill himself.

 

***

 

 _This is it_ , Tony decided. There was nothing else for him in this world. He would drown himself in the river in the park, and just… be done. He would sink to the bottom, and lie there in the river, peaceful. It sounded like an amazing way to spend eternity. He didn’t want to be buried in the Royal Burial Ground, where he would have a statue made in his likeness. He would just sink, and let time and nature do its thing, and he would be safe from the touches of mankind. And they from him, he supposed.

He loved this park. He had spent many hours escaping from his own duties right here on the soft grass by the river bank, and he would watch the swans. There were swans that came to the river that the authorities begged people not to feed. They were awkward and weird birds, and could break your arm if you bothered them. Tony loved them wholeheartedly.

He was never taught to swim, and he has never been so happy about that until now. For the first time in a long time, perhaps the first time since he came into the world and killed his mother, Tony felt calm. Relief. Finally, it was going to be over. No more running after things that weren’t meant for him, no more wondering what it was that he lacked that made him so unloveable, as if he was cursed by some magician. He could just … not be anymore. It was wonderful.

Tony walked up to the bridge rail, and leaned against it. There was  a light breeze tonight, reaching out and playing with his hair. The river rolled slowly past. When he looked down, Tony could see the moon and the stars shining brightly in the reflection of the water. It made him smile, and he got up on the rail with a lighter heart, devoid of the heavy weight that shackled him most days. No one would miss him, he knew. Just one step. He wouldn’t even be falling down — he was rising into the sky.

He had always dreamed of flying.

He held his arms out … and…

A loud cry stopped him.

There was a swan on the banks of the river. Feathers white as snow, neck long and gracefully curved, tapering into a black face and long beak. Its wings were huge, and they were completely opened. With a powerful thrust of its wings, the swan launched itself into the air. Tony watched, transfixed, as the swan soared through the air to land right next to him.

It looked him right in the eyes, and Tony stared back. He had never seen a swan that looked at him so intensely before. It was like it wanted to tell him something. Like it knew him. It happened while he was staring. Wings elongated, body became bigger… The transformation was over so fast, Tony almost couldn’t believe he had seen it, but there he stood. Where a swan had stood in front of him just a second ago, now stood a man.

He was the most beautiful man Tony had ever seen: blue eyes that made Tony feel like he was sinking into them, golden hair, chiseled jaw, and the strong build of a fighter. If Tony was gaping a bit, he felt he could be excused.

“Hello, Prince Anthony,” the man intoned.

“What,” Tony gasped. He backed up, stumbled, and nearly fell into the river anyway. “What the, I, huh—”

“Careful—!”

Tony slipped, and nearly met a painful fate on the hard ground of the bridge, when suddenly there were arms around his waist and his decent halted. Tony looked down, and was suddenly very close to a pair of dazzling blue eyes and high cheekbones. Tony lost his breath, and he couldn’t seem to get it again.

The man set Tony down delicately, the way he would if Tony was a priceless artifact or an expensive porcelain bowl. Tony’s heart was racing, and he felt unsteady.

“Are you all right?” the stranger asked.

Tony dumbly nodded, too stunned to say anything. Then, he jolted out of the man’s arms, shook himself off, and turned to him. “What the fuck was that?” He demanded. “You were an actual swan just… five seconds ago, how could … am I dead? Is this death? I thought it would either be really nice or really horrible, but this is just turning into a strange fever dream, and I don’t really understand—”

“You’re not dead.” The man stretched out his hands, and then put them back down like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Please, listen to me. I need your help.”

“What, someone’s going to hunt you for dinner?” Tony asked. He was not in control. His voice had gone shrill and he was clutching his hands in front of his chest, hunching down like a wounded animal. “I hear swan roast is all the rage—”

“No, that’s not, just listen,”

“You were a swan, mister, I’m not sure if it would be good for my sanity to even entertain this… I was going to just end it all, why did you have to stop me—”

“I’m Steve Rogers, the Knight of America. Please. The kingdom is in danger, and I need your help to save it.”

Tony was barely standing upright as it was. What was he going to save? All he did was get walked over and lied to. His girlfriend used him to steal the royal seal, and now he was losing his mind in a park. He couldn’t take this anymore. He deliberately ignored the man and turned back to the rail.

“No!” The man grabbed his arm.

“Let me go!” Tony yanked at his arm. “Let me go, I need to die, I’m just going insane, I’m rotting from the inside out, if I lost my mind as well, then that’s it, there’s nothing left, I have nothing left—”

The man didn’t let go, but pulled Tony in instead, and suddenly Tony was pressed up against a soft, naked chest.

“How could you say that?” the man whispered. He was stroking Tony’s hair, and holding him carefully, like he fucking cared, and Tony had no idea what to do.

“Stop it,” he said half-heartedly. He pushed, but met the expected resistance.

“You’re just throwing your life away.”

“Because it’s worthless and no one wants it,” he snarled.

There was a soft quiet for a moment, filled only with the sound of water going by under the bridge, and Tony’s panting. Then, “What if I want it?” Asked softly.

Tony stilled completely. “What?” His voice came out weak, just the way his father hated it.

The man sighed. Was this really the legendary Steve Rogers? Or was it some desperate bid by his brain to keep him from killing himself? Tony was reeling. The chest was pretty real-like, though.

“Oh, Tony,” the man sighed. “I wish I had the time to show you how valuable and precious you really are, but time is running out. I’m under a curse, and I desperately need your help to save the kingdom.”

“Yes, you’ve said that.” Tony could appreciate being smashed up against a warm chest, but he was starting to think that eye-contact might be important here. He leaned his head back so he could look the alleged Steve Rogers in the eyes. Steve stopped patting his head, which was a loss Tony felt keenly, and loosened his hold, but didn’t let go. That was a plus.

Maybe eye contact was a bad idea. Steve’s eyes gave Tony vertigo. They made it a bit difficult to think. Tony closed his eyes and rallied his senses, and tried again. He stepped away so they could have a face-to-face conversation like normal people. He opened his eyes.

“You said you were cursed,” Tony said hesitantly. “But you didn’t give the full details. I just… Steve Rogers is a legend. And he lives happily ever after, you know? So how…,” Tony waved a hand towards Steve, “the swan thing, I just—”

“I don’t know what the stories tell, but I didn’t get a happily ever after,” Steve said with a sad smile.

“But… but you deserve a happily ever after,” Tony protested.

“I’m glad you think so, but we don’t always get what we deserve. My friend, Barnes, he… I lost him, during a quest. He was my greatest partner, and best friend. We were practically brothers. I couldn’t leave him to his fate, even though the King forbid me from going after him. In my arrogance, I thought I could take on Rothbart by myself… but I couldn’t. Instead of saving my friend, I got myself captured, so we were both stuck. We weren’t killed, but cursed to forever remain under his power. He keeps many warriors as his own flock of swans, and he turns us back so we can do his bidding on occasion.”

“Okay…” Tony had read up a lot on magic over the years, due to his recurring dreams. Everything that Steve said sounded plausible. “But then, how are we talking now? How have you been unable to ask for help before?”

“I’ve never stopped trying to free myself, all of us. Barnes, he… he thinks it’s best to just listen to Rothbart so he’ll go easy on us, but I can’t lose hope. I schemed with some of the other swans, and we managed to steal some of the items from Rothbart’s stash. My mother used to use some small spells, so I have a bit of understanding of magic. We all worked together to set up a spell that was supposed to break me free of the spell, but…” Steve looked embarrassed here. “There was a lock of your hair.”

“There was what?” Tony asked breathlessly.

“I used a lock of your hair in a spell. I didn’t know it was yours. I thought it was Rothbart’s. Instead of setting me free, it gave some of the ownership to you.” Steve reached out and held Tony’s hands in his own, and Tony felt the touch travel up his nerve endings, all the way down his spine. “We’re linked now, you and I.”

“The dreams,” Tony said dazedly. He thought about what he had read about magic over the years. It was highly unlikely, of course, but if it was a powerful magician like Rothbart… then yeah, theoretically, everything Steve was saying was possible.

“Yes. There were unexpected side effects, I will admit. But maybe this can help us. Please, Tony,” Steve squeezed his hands, “you’re my only hope.”

Tony stared at their clasped hands, and then swallowed. He came to a decision. “Okay.” He nodded. “Okay, yeah. I’ll help you, whatever you need.” Tony lifted his gaze to Steve’s own bright, earnest eyes.

“What do you need?”

Steve ducked his head down. Relief softened him, and he looked very vulnerable all of a sudden. “Thank you,” he whispered.

Tony swallowed, and tried not to pay attention to the heat coiling in his abdomen.

Steve seemed to gather himself, and said, “When I figured out that the hair was yours, I thought that Rothbart was probably planning something, something bad. What else would he do with a lock of the crown prince’s hair? I think Rothbart is trying to take over the throne. He’s infiltrated the castle, somehow. We’ve heard him talking about going to the castle, and how no one suspects a thing. He’s been earning the King’s trust all this time, and on the night of the ball, he’s going to cast a spell that will put him in power, somehow. I don’t know the specifics of the spell, but it’s only going to work then because it’s the night of the Winter solstice. At the strike of midnight, he’ll unleash his trap. You must stop him before he does that. He’s such an old, powerful magician, though, so it won’t be easy. He can shapeshift, so he can hide in any shape he wants. I don’t know what shape he takes when going to the castle, unfortunately. You’ll have to look for anyone who has only recently joined the castle, no more than a year. Good luck, and… be careful.”

There was a lock of hair out of place on Steve’s head, and without thinking, Tony reached up and pushed it back. His fingers pressed lightly into Steve’s scalp, and he looked up at him through his long lashes.

“I will. I promise,” Tony swore. “Do… are you going to leave now?”

“Yes,” Steve sighed. “It would probably be best. I need to get back before Rothbart comes.” Steve raised Tony’s hand to press a kiss to his knuckles. “Thank you.”

Steve turned and crossed the bridge, and disappeared into the shadows.

Tony stood there for a few minutes just absorbing what just happened. His chest felt tight, his head full. He was still holding his hand cradled against his chest, like he was going to treasure the kiss pressed there. When he opened his hand, he found a single, pure white feather. Tony felt a grin come over him, and he turned around to go back where he had come. He felt like he was floating the whole way.

 

***

 

Hidden in Tony’s room, where no one knew about it, were a bunch of magical tomes. Since childhood, he’d had a fascination with magic and it’s dangers, and he was always looking it up — in secret. His father scoffed at mentions of magic, thinking the illogical art too volatile and unpracticed to ever pose a threat to anyone. It had been centuries since the royal family employed a magician. Americans had never really had much use for magic, considering themselves enlightened people of machinery, and magic got a pretty bad reputation after the experiments and atrocities the world had witnessed by Hitler’s magicians. Overall, it was uncommon to see anyone using even the most basic of magics in America, and rare to see anything stronger.

Tony had never really seen any magical practice for himself. Although he had done extensive research by himself, there were just some places he couldn’t reach because he was the crown prince. He had, however, lucked out at one point: a witch had died, and her descendant sold her book on magic. It had been like a beginner’s guide to magical theory, and Tony had devoured the book from the moment he got it. He learned so much about what magic is and what it consisted of.

Naturally, Tony had tried to do a bit of magic himself, but every attempt failed. He didn’t know if it was because he had no teacher or if he just had no natural ability. He did, however, find little loopholes using machines. Instead of using such fickle things like emotions or inner strength, he used pentagrams and bots to do the work. His first real success had been Dum-E. A little bit of magic had given the bot a bit of soul, and it gave Dum-E a real personality.

When Tony returned home from meeting Steve, the first thing he did was gather up all his magic books. Steve needed him, and he wasn’t going to let him down. He would research everything he could about Rothbart and what this spell might be, and also try and figure out who Rothbart could be. His best best was James Barnes. He had come very recently, and when he did, Obie had started acting strange. That must have been because Barnes was poisoning Obie’s mind against Tony, so that Barnes could ingratiate himself into the palace. He would have to keep an eye on him during the ball, so that he couldn’t sneak off and perform any sort of spell.

Tony didn’t know if his small amount of knowledge would help him against a centuries-old magician, but he would have the element of surprise. Hopefully, he could make this work.

 

***

 

Pressed slacks, dress shirt, light blue suit jacket, blue and green cravat, gold cufflinks, and Maria’s pocket watch. There was no real reason why Tony took extra care to dress for the ball, since it wouldn’t matter in the end when he finally confronted Barnes or Rothbart, but it was what he defaulted on usually. It was as far from real armor as you could get, but it made him feel safe and protected all the same. With a final look at reflection in the mirror, Tony nodded his head in approval and set off.

He had work to do.

Tony walked through the halls and the corridors with a spring in his step and, he believed, a glimmer in his eyes. He was a man on a mission, and he knew what he had to do. He was going to finish his mission, no matter the cost.

All through the limo ride to the ball, Tony reflected on how far he had come, and what he was going to do now. He should find a way to corner Barnes in the ball. If he ever stepped out or went to a secluded place, then Tony would follow him and confront him. He would try to figure out what Rothbart knew and how to break the curse on Steve, using the magic nullifying cuffs Tony had made. It would work, Tony told himself. Just in case it didn’t, he also had a pistol tucked discreetly into his waistband that would do the trick. Tony didn’t let himself wonder what would happen if it didn’t work.

“Ready?” The King asked. Tony nodded, and put on his press smile.

He stepped out into the light of a hundred flashing bulbs.

When Tony stepped into the ball, he found himself in his element. He shook hands with the women present, making the ladies blush and flutter their eyelashes, and he charmed the adults into thinking that each and every one of them was special and necessary to the events of the day, even though they weren’t. He sipped champagne, nibbled on hors d’oeuvre, and flashed his eyes at everyone to catch his attention. The women all fought for a chance to have his sparkling blue gaze shine on them. If anyone had believed the rumors that the prince of America was despondent, those rumors were purged entirely from their minds. The image of the charming, carefree prince was revived in their minds once more, and everyone walked a little easier.

Of course, the moment Barnes walked into the room was the moment that everything went to hell in a handbasket.

Barnes sauntered into the room with a presence that took up the entire room, and made you beg for more. His hair was slicked back and held by a hair band, his smile was smooth and slippery, his clothes were all black: shirt, leather pants, and coat. His scarf was the only exception, pure white, and with its soft, downy texture, Tony was vividly reminded of swans and their soft feathers. Tony watched, transfixed, as Barnes sauntered his way into the ballroom, not getting in anyone’s way and yet somehow the center of attention.  Then he turned around, in his all black ensemble, and surveyed the room. When his eyes met Tony across the room, he winked. Tony nearly dropped his champagne glass, but Barnes just kept on looking as if he hadn’t even seen him.

Tony’s blood ran cold, though he couldn’t figure out why. Tony kept asking himself, was Barnes going to do the spell now? Would he do it earlier than Steve had said? What was going on? He didn’t know, but he decided to just keep doing what he was doing and wait it out. Barnes couldn’t use a spell in the middle of a room, he was sure. He would have to slip away at some point to enact any sort of spell, so Tony would have to keep a lookout. Tony reached into his pocket and felt the feather. Steve needed him. He wouldn’t let Steve down.

The night wore on, but Tony felt his patience fraying. He danced the next dance and then removed himself from the next one, so he could keep a better lookout. Barnes never acknowledged him after that first look. He didn’t even seem to remember that Tony was even there. Instead, he prowled around the room, flirting with every girl he laid his eyes on. He didn’t seem to care what other people thought of him, seeing the way he laid on the flirtations. Tony could hear people whisper and not-so-whisper about him, saying he was crude and over the top and not decent, but no one tried to stop him regardless. Tony watched as Barnes ran his hand up a girl’s thigh, slowly, all while the two smiled at each other with predatory smiles, and felt a thrill of … something. Tony didn’t know what he was feeling, but he was feeling something. Fear, surely.

Time wore on. Some girls came over to Tony to talk or flirt or ask out to dance, but Tony was getting anxious. He didn’t know what was going to happen next, but he just wanted it to happen now. At one point, he saw from afar his father talking to Barnes, and freaked out. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, Tony made his way across the ballroom to prevent whatever mischief Barnes was causing. He was delayed by the dancers and the press of people, however, and found that by the time he reached his father, Barnes had already left.

“Wha- where’s Barnes?” Tony asked. He sounded breathless and nervous to his own ears.

“Hmm? Oh, yes, I was just talking to Sir Barnes just now. That young man is very intelligent, you should have heard what he had to say about the current political situation of our country, and how a democracy would ruin all of us. It’s insane what people are saying nowadays, about becoming a democratic government, but Sir Barnes had the perfect responses for them. You could take him as an example, son. You never seem to have any idea what’s going on outside of your own workshop. Maybe if you poked your head out once, you’d see some of the things that are going on.”

The words cut him worse than any sword could have. Tony had thought he was used to his father seeing him as little more than a disappointment, but to have his father’s preference for someone he had just met thrust into his face was more than he could bear. Tony looked away, mentioned that he had something urgent he had to take care of, and ran off.

Walking away, he tried to get himself under control. It didn’t matter what Howard thought of him. All that mattered was finding Rothbart and preventing this spell from going off. He wouldn’t let Steve down. He couldn’t. Tony looked around, but couldn’t find Barnes. He did see Stane, so he went up to him, hoping Stane might know where Barnes had went.

“Obie,” Tony greeted. “How are you enjoying the party?”

“Oh, quite well. I’ve always liked coming out to these fancy parties with their pretty rooms and even prettier girls.” A noblewoman half his age walked by, and Obie smiled at her. “And what about you, my boy?”

“Oh, you know. Made my rounds, but I feel beat already. Father’s…” he paused as he looked over to where his father was talking to the Queen of England, and then blurted out, “I think Father would prefer to have someone like Barnes as his heir.”

“Oh, really?” Obie asked in a soft voice.

He didn’t know where that had come from. He was supposed to be asking about Barnes’s whereabouts, not whining about how he had failed to live up to his father’s expectations yet again. Well, there was still some time before midnight. This way, he could waste some time, right?

“Yeah. I don’t know why, but… well, he’s been talking to Barnes a lot lately. I don’t know. I know I’m doing a lot wrong, but I don’t know how to fix it.”

“Well, son, you know you don’t focus on the political situation as much as you should.”

Tony flinched. He grit his teeth and breathed through the pain, the way he had learned a long time ago. “I know, but—”

“No, now, you listen. It’s no wonder your father prefers talking to someone like Barnes, who is so much more learned than you and actually knows how to talk to people. I bet he was never found talking to a picture. If you want to get better, you need to do better, Tony. Your father isn’t going to go easy on you just because you’re his son.”

In the back of his head, Tony wondered how much more he had to hurt before he learned. There had to come to a point where the words would just make him numb, instead of feeling like something was trying to slowly claw its way out from inside of him. He had always known, but that didn’t make it any easier to hear. Just as he was trying to figure out what on earth he could respond with, Tony spotted Barnes across the room, sneaking into a side room.

“Excuse me,” he murmured, and beat a hasty retreat. Obie seemed to say something to him, but Tony paid no heed.

Soon he was through the room, and was catching up with Barnes. He went after him through the door, and saw the bottom of the man’s black jacket turning around into the next room, and Tony ran to follow him into the room. Tony came up short. Barnes was sitting there in the middle of the room, standing and not moving. Tony had thought that Barnes hadn’t noticed, but he suddenly wasn’t sure. He retreated a bit, hoping to hide behind the door, but then Barnes turned around and smiled right at him.

“My Prince,” he said. “What a surprise.”

Tony felt like the rug had been taken out from under him. This wasn’t at all what he had expected to go, but he had come this far. He had to try. “I’m here to stop you,” he said in as strong a voice as he could muster.

Barnes lifted one cultured eyebrow, and Tony’s heart sank. “Stop me from doing what?”

Finding ridicule instead of a fight is always a harsh change. Tony tried to rally his strength, but was finding it a bit difficult to do anything in this room with the quiet, away from the loud noises of the ballroom and mindless chatter, and most importantly, away from Steve and any hint of magic. “I know you’re Rothbart,” he tried again.

“Rothbart? That evil sorcerer that mothers use to scare their children?” Barnes scoffed. “What are you talking about, your highness? You’re joking, right? I just stepped out to get a breath of fresh air.”

“No!” In a fit of desperation, Tony pulled out his pistol. Barnes glanced at it, but didn’t give it any other attention. “I know you’re Rothbart. I spoke with Steve, the old soldier that you’ve cursed, and you have to redo the spell here. I’m telling you to stop it.”

“Your highness, have you had too much to drink? I didn’t see anything stronger than champagne out there, but you’re not acting like yourself.”

“No! No, shut up! I know what you’re doing! I talked to Steve, I studied the spell books—”

“Spell books?! Prince Anthony, what have you been getting yourself into?”

“—and I know that Rothbart has to be someone who came into the castle recently, who managed to get quite close to the King…” Tony paused.

And then, Tony noticed something strange. Barnes's eyes seemed to dull, like all the life was going out of them. He looked in the direction of the ballroom, but didn't seem to be seeing anything. "Are you sure I'm the one you're looking for?" He asked in a soft monotone.

Tony paused, confused.  Then, he had a sudden flashback to all the times Obie had put a small, brightly colored object into his pocket. He would do it in smooth motions, practiced to not draw the eye, and he had been doing them for years without anyone realizing. Magicians often used colorful talismans to help them in their spell-casting.

Obadiah Stane became the King’s advisor shortly after Queen Maria had died, and worked his way up the ranks ever since until he was now the most important person in the country after the King himself. Who carried a talisman in his pocket.

Tony ran the whole way out of the room and back into the ballroom. He looked around until he found Stane, and he went to pursue him after putting the pistol back into his pocket. He was frazzled, scared, and unsure of himself. What was he going to do? The time was almost up for the completion of the spell, but there wasn’t much he could do about it, was there? He was just going to have to confront Stane in front of everyone. Maybe if he could convince his father, it would be okay.

Tony sidled up to where Stane was taking snacks from the buffet table. “I know who you are,” Tony told Stane.

“I should hope so, I practically raised you,” he said easily, slipping a juicy prawn onto his plate.

“No, I know that you’ve been lying all this time. To us. To father. To me.” Obie made as if to walk away, but Tony stepped in front of him.

“Tony, what’s gotten into you?” A crease formed between his eyebrows when he frowned. “You’ve been off all night. For a while, actually. I was hoping you’d be over this business now that you’ve left that Bain woman, but you’ve just gotten worse. I—”

“Stop talking to me as if you ever cared!” Tony winced. He had said that much louder than he wanted to, but he wasn’t going to stop there. “You came to the palace to ruin us, not to help us. You’re Rothbart, the magician!”

“Rothbart? The old magician?” Tony turned around and saw his father at his back. “He’s dead, boy, nothing but a legend. What nonsense are you talking about?”

“I’m telling you, he’s lying to us,” Tony tried. “If you don’t believe me, just look at that talisman he’s always carrying around, I guarantee you, you’ll see a magician’s tool—”

In that instant, Tony noticed something. A slight hesitation, a fraction of a pause, a twitched eyebrow. Something infinitesimally small in Stane’s mannerism, but something that wouldn’t have been there if he hadn’t been guilty. Tony saw it, and felt sure.

But it was gone in less than a moment.

“What talisman?” Stane asked, as sure of himself as ever. He held his palms up in a calming gesture. “Tony, I think you’ve been under a lot of stress recently, and maybe you need a break—”

“Tony, stop making a fool out of all of us,” the King growled.

“NO!” Tony shrieked, and took his gun out. Immediately, gasps erupted around the room and everyone backed away. Tony pointed the gun right at Stane. “Let him go!”

“Let who go?! Tony, please, listen to me.”

“No! You know who I’m talking about! Steve, who’s your prisoner. I want you to let him go! Now!”

“Now, Tony, calm down…”

“Have you completely lost your mind—”

“What is he doing?!”

Sounds crashed over Tony all at once. He was drowning, thrown from a ship in the middle of a storm. He looked around for any friendly face, but couldn’t find a single one. He was completely alone. He always knew that.

Barnes appeared at his side suddenly. Tony jumped, but wasn’t able to stop Barnes from grabbing his wrists and pointing the gun at the ceiling. They struggled. Barnes was looking far too calm for the situation, and if Tony looked closer, he might have noticed that his eyes were dead and glazed over, but he had more important things to focus on.

People were screaming and gasping, and Tony found it hard to focus. He tugged, Barnes tugged, and… then…

BANG!

The gun fired.

 

***

 

Tony folded his arms under him and stared up at the moon.

It was a lovely night. The air was clear, and the full moon shone as bright as the sun in the sky, shedding its gentle light on her subjects. The moon was kinder than the sun, Tony thought. She allowed whoever wanted to hide to be hidden, and whoever wanted to see could see. The stars shone throughout the sky like a tapestry, the most beautiful and majestic tapestry that no one could buy or sell. It was all he had, but it was turning out to be a good amount.

Tony sighed and turned back to the bed. There was nothing else for him to do.

He had failed.

All he had wanted to do for Steve was just to save him from the spell, but he hadn’t even been able to do that. The one thing he had decided on to save his own life, and he wasn’t able to do it. Now, he was just wandering listlessly throughout the day, going through the motions, waiting for death.

There was no razor in the bathroom, and medication was given to him pill by pill under supervision. The windows were barred with beautiful wrought iron, and his room was locked. He had stopped eating two days ago, and was force fed broth. They threatened to hook him up to an IV. He didn’t care anymore.

His father came frequently. He never seemed to know what to say. He had started out with his usual spiel of Stark men and iron, but when Tony didn’t say a word, he changed. Day after day, Tony noticed that his father was changing his tactics, being kinder. He was sometimes wedeling, other times bargaining. One time he got so desperate, he actually begged Tony to talk to him. Tony had never in his life seen his father beg, not to anyone. It had moved something in Tony, but still, he hadn’t said a word. That was when Howard lost his patience completely, and left.

Tony hadn’t seen him since. He was enjoying the silence.

It was a far cry better than anything else he got up to in this room of limbo. Doctors talked at him, nurses tended to him, but nothing really changed. He had stopped trying to tell them about Steve, the imprisoned man who was enchanted. He had stopped trying to say anything at all.

Suicidal, he overheard them say. Severe depressive episode. Non-verbal.

When will he get better? His father asked.

We don’t know.

Tony tried to take comfort in the little talisman he had kept from Steve, but looking at it now, it was just a feather. Could he have made the whole thing up? Was it possible it had all just been a delusion?

He ached for his picture of Mother, but they had taken that away too. He had tried replicating it in a piece by drawing it on a piece of paper, but the nurses took that away too. The only thing he had really managed to keep for himself was his feather, through a mix of tenacity and cleverness. This they would not take from him.

He continued to believe that Steve was real. He held onto the belief like a drowning man to a broken buoy. He had nothing except his beliefs and his own mind, so he would keep those. His beliefs and his feather were hidden in a box tied with string, placed in the back of his heart.

After arguing with the nurses and doctors and his father for a week, he gave up. Every night, he stared up at the sky and watched the moon. Tony liked to imagine, in the long hours of the day filled with staring at walls and avoiding medication, that Steve would come rescue him, but that didn’t seem feasible. How was he going to do that when he was still under Rothbart’s spell? Tony didn’t know, but…

He had to try something.

He still had the book of spells. He had hidden them behind the ventilator before, and now he put it inside DUM-E, alongside the feather. The nurses allowed him to continue working on DUM-E, thinking it was a good influence on him. Tony noticed the nurses looking unhappy when Tony talked to DUM-E, so he made sure not to talk to DUM-E in an overly affectionate way. Then, they relaxed. That was their mistake, of course, but Tony wasn’t going to complain about that. Tony studied the book in every moment he could, sneaking pages into normal books so the nurses wouldn’t know what he was reading, reading the full copy when he was blessedly alone. He wrote equations along the margins, on the floor, on his hands and arms. He didn’t know how much the nurses knew about mechanics, and he didn’t put it past them to lie or pretend not to know when they knew a lot, so he didn’t leave anything incriminating within reach.

He pet DUM-E when they weren’t looking, and whispered instructions to him when they weren’t in earshot. He laughed at how his ‘dumb, useless AI’ kept bringing him random junk, like remote controls or little clocks, instead of handing him his coffee or cleaning up. The nurses laughed along. A harmless distraction, he could imagine them saying. He kept it up.

Finally, three months later, he was ready.

In order to set Steve free, they both needed to be near each other. This was the hardest part of the equation, but their bond was still present, though weak. He had to work fast before Rothbart broke the bond between, but he only had one chance, so there was no room for error. He schemed, calculated, and thought, and in the end, there was nothing left to do but act.

Tony gathered his stolen supplies and set them up around his spacious, sharp-implement free room and set to work. He drew the diagrams, winded his clockwork instruments, and checked his coding one last time. As a last resort, he put the picture of Maria Stark on top of his diagram. Couldn’t hurt. Either Maria would pray for him, or maybe the magic would accept his offering. As it was, it was the final piece of his bridge he had left to burn.

Tony used to have an old magician’s wand, but that was confiscated, of course. Instead, he asked the nurses to let him walk around the palace grounds, where he was able to pick up some sticks of yew tree. Then he had threaded pieces of these into three machines he set up at equal distances around his circle, and hoped it would be good enough. He wondered what he would do if he failed. But that thought lead nowhere good, so he stopped.

He began to chant words of the spell he had come up with himself, using an old English dictionary, pieces from magic books, and prayers.

He read the spell out.

It didn’t work.

He paused and felt despair choke the air out of his throat, crush his trachea. It was all in his head, of course, because he didn’t get such an easy way out. He breathed through the crushing weight, and he felt the hopelessness leave his lungs and coat the air. Like the humidity had gone up, or the gravity had become stronger. He just sat there and breathed for two minutes, feeling nothing but their air in his lungs and the weight on his chest, and that was when he got an idea.

He took out the feather. It was cracked in two places, rumpled and ruined beyond recognition, but still there, in the lining of his coat. He took out the feather and put it there in the middle of the circle. He tweaked a few of the words, whispered a prayer. And tried again.

This time, lights went up around the circle. It was weak and faint, but there. Tony kept it up, repeating and repeating the spell until it reached the first of his yew-machine, and then it really took off. The room was filled with light, and Tony took a moment to regret not putting a towel under the crack of the door, but it was too late for anything like that. The circle pulsed with energy, but Tony didn’t say the final piece of the spell just yet. He looked at his barometer at his side. It was measuring the levels of magic, and he had to get this right. It waxed, it waned, it was a bit erratic and unpredictable, but if he could get it at the right moment…

Right… there!

Tony spoke the word to summon, and the world went white.

Then, standing in front of him, was Steve.

Steve looked around himself in shock, taking in the room, the diagram, and finally, Tony.

“Tony,” he breathed. “What did you do?”

For a moment, Tony didn’t say anything. He stood up slowly, closed the distance, and then reached out to touch Steve. When his fingers met resistance, he all but collapsed into his chest.

“Steve,” he sobbed, “oh, Steve, I thought, I was worried, they said you weren’t real, but I never stopped believing, and I kept your feather with me always, even when the nurses tried to take it, and it worked, I can’t believe it, I just can’t—”

“ _Tony_ ,” Steve barked in a military voice, “ _breathe._ ”

Tony took a deep, noisy breath.

Steve cradled Tony’s face in his hands, and they stared into each other’s eyes like they were staring at their own salvations. “You did,” Steve whispered. “You really did it. I didn’t think you would be able to, but you actually got me out of there.”

Tony just nodded dumbly.

“That’s… you’re amazing, Tony.” Steve smiled at Tony, _beamed_  at him. Tony looked away, unable.

“Come on, let’s get out of here,” Steve said, pulling Tony along.

“But… but the door is locked, how..?”

“We’ll find a way,” Steve said, still smiling down at Tony. Tony couldn’t think with that smile pointed in his direction, so he just nodded.

Steve dragged him over to the doors, where one good kick from the eminent soldier was all it took to open the doors. Tony, for the first time in a long time, felt his face spread into a grin, and he and Steve smiled at each other. The world was beautiful.

That was when Tony heard the clapping.

“Bravo, Prince Tony.” Tony whipped his head down the corridor, and found Stane standing there watching the two of them.

“Obie.”

“I never thought you would ever realize what I was doing, much less use magic to get out, but this is the end of your line.” Out from behind Stane stepped Barnes and three other men dressed in the same feathered pants that Steve wore.

“Barnes,” Steve whispered. “Dum Dum. Please, fight it.”

“Ah, but they can’t disobey me anymore than you could before that whole debacle happened. And after tonight, you’ll be under my control once again. Now, let’s get this over with before anyone catches wind of this shall we?” Stane snapped his fingers.

Barnes crashed into Steve, and they both tumbled back into the bedroom.

“Steve!” Tony shouted, and ran after him.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice when one of my own swans was just teleported to the middle of the palace?” Stane asked in a companionable voice.

Tony barely heard him. He tried to intervene in the fight, but one of the swans grabbed hold of him and kept him from moving in a vice-like grip. Tony struggled and swore, but all he could do was watched.

Steve was a good fighter, Tony could tell, but something was holding him back. Tony, with his understanding of magic and the bond between him and Steve, could see that Stane was using his influence to fight Steve. Steve might have been able to win under his own merits, but he was losing like this. Tony screamed and fought, but to no avail.

Then Tony noticed the dagger in the swans thigh holster, and got an idea.

“Steve!” he shouted. “Steve, get me free.”

Steve’s left arm was limp, and he was covered in gashes, but he spared a glance at Tony. There was a pause in the motion. Then, Steve sidestepped a blow, barreled straight into Tony and his captor, and they all went down.

“Tony, get out of here!” Steve shouted.

Tony payed him no heed. What would be the point in him running away, anyway? No, instead he lunged for the knife in his captor’s holster and pulled it out. He had one last trick up his sleeve. He began to chant.

“No!” Stane shouted.

“No!” Steve shouted.

They were both too late.

Tony slashed a deep, clean cut on his wrist. Blood streamed forth from the moment he did so, like it was waiting all this time to be free. Steve lunged to his knees and grabbed Tony’s hands. The knife clattered to the floor. Blood dripped down Steve’s arm, and as they watched, the blood shone. An ethereal, golden chain appeared on Steve’s wrists, and then shattered.

Steve just shook his head dumbly.

“Life’s blood can…” Tony paused to pant, “do miracles, if you need it.”

Steve stared. Then, he snarled.

“Rothbart!” he roared, and surged to his feet.

Stane took a step back, and made a motion towards Barnes and the swans, but they just stood motionless, staring at Tony.

“Protect me, you idiots!” he shouted. Their bodies pulled taut, but they stood still.

Steve was a blur of motion. He grabbed the knife Tony had used, and ran at Stane. Stane turned and tried to run, but Steve was too fast. The next second, Steve grabbed him and stabbed him right in the heart. Stane gasped, fell to the floor, and writhed. He stared up at the blood-covered Steve in disbelief, and then his face went slack.

The next moment, Steve was kneeling next to Tony.

“Tony, no no no, please, you have to keep fighting, I’m going to get you help, okay?”

Steve was so beautiful, Tony thought. Steve was so good, and had suffered for so long, but that was over now. With Rothbart dead, he was now free to do what he wished. Tony felt privileged to have been a part of that.

“You’re free now,” Tony murmured, too weak to speak any louder. Steve was shaking his head, but Tony didn’t know why. He was now free to go back to protecting America just like he used to, or spending the rest of his life in retirement, if that was what he wanted. This was his happy ending.

Tony was just privileged to have been a part of it. He loved happy endings.

He lifted his hand to brush Steve’s cheek. And then his hand fell away.

 

**Author's Note:**

> SPOILER WARNINGS: Tony is heavily abused throughout the fic by his father, Obie, and Sunset. It comes to a head when he tries to drown himself in the lake, but Steve stops him. At the end of this fic, however, in order to save Steve, Tony slits his own wrist to give himself enough power to free Steve from Stane's grasp. In doing so, he kills himself.
> 
> Thanks for reading, and don't forget to leave kudos and comment if you enjoyed! <3


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